


Loose Grip

by levelofdepth



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Holding Hands, Hurt/Comfort, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 14:15:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19021612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levelofdepth/pseuds/levelofdepth
Summary: Lana Beniko explores and comes to terms with her deeper feelings for the Wrath despite the situation— or maybe because of it.





	Loose Grip

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, thank you for reading my story; this is the first time I've ever uploaded anything publicly, and it's not even beta'd, so I appreciate this. Constructive criticism is much appreciated, as well.
> 
> When I first wrote this, the only people I envisioned reading were some close friends who know nothing of TOR story, so if at times the story feels like it's reiterating the obvious, that's why.
> 
> Finally, this story touches briefly on some minor injuries, but nothing very graphic.

The typically bustling docks of the tropical planet Rishi are hushed under the moonlight; only the occasional cackle from a monkey-lizard or a cry from one of the native critters of the planet reverberate through the darkness. Lana doesn’t miss the shrill, unending screeching from the obnoxious monkey-lizards— more than once, she has almost force choked one —but tonight, the silence is putting her on edge.

After uncovering the Revanite’s plan and defeating her former master, Darth Arkous, Lana was declared a murderer and traitor to the Empire. She didn’t mind the infamy; she never cared much for titles, and she knew in her heart that what she had done— what she was doing —was for the Empire. Still, exile made it difficult to take down an entire army being amassed by Revan. The only assistance she could procure was from the wookie, Jakarro, his droid companion, C2-D4, Theron Shan, and…

Lana’s heart clenches abruptly cutting off her thought. She makes a mental note to get her recent palpitations checked out. She refuses to believe her heart issues have anything to do with the newest addition of her jumbled strike team. The nature of their relationship is purely professional, Lana rationalizes. She worries for the other Sith’s health and safety only due to her involvement with their incredibly sensitive mission at hand.

Recruiting Astral Hall, the final member of Lana’s rag-tag team, was a risk Lana felt obligated to take; Hall, being the Emperor’s Wrath, is the embodiment of the Empire itself. Lana Beniko is currently a wanted criminal of the Empire for supposedly murdering a very influential member of the Dark Council. Still, Lana knew Astral would go to great lengths to protect Imperial interests— she suspects it’s in the job description for a Wrath —and Lana had no one else as capable to turn to.

And besides, she trusted Astral immensely, which surprised Lana. She could rely on others knowing they were experienced, but never fully trust them. With Astral, it’s different. She feels understood, and even when they disagree, Lana feels at ease; in an occupation where they are never truly secure, Astral manages to make her feel safe. Since their very first meeting she had felt a strange attraction—

“Bond,” Lana scolds herself harshly underneath her breath. “We have a force bond. Not an attraction.” It is only then that she finally notices her frantic pacing. She silently curses her nerves for betraying her, then resigns herself to the kitchen to make some tea in hopes of soothing her tension away.

Lana goes over the current mission details in her head as she works; she gets anxious when she’s idle, so she works meticulously at her planning to keep herself busy. Theron was able to slice into the inboxes of a few key Nova Blade gang members and acquire critical information on the inner workings of their operations; together, they were able to discern that one of the top income factors for the Blades was their slave trade. They devised a plan for Astral to infiltrate the Nova Blade’s base while it was dark outside so as to not be seen. Once she got in, she was to place a tracker on each individual slave container to mark them for transportation via starship tractor beam by Jakarro and C2-D4 the next morning. The disruption to the Nova Blade’s lucrative business, along with the eventual assassination of their leader— also by Astral’s hand —would draw out the Revanites working alongside the Nova Blades on Rishi. Unfortunately, Astral had yet to return to their makeshift headquarters, and it was nearly half an hour past the set time for her return. Lana began worrying after the one minute mark, but Theron convinced her to give Astral half an hour before setting out to search for her personally. It didn’t sit well with her, but without any leads as to where the other Sith was exactly she didn’t have much of a choice. Theron semi-jokingly suggested that the other woman was simply “taking her time and enjoying the satisfaction of cutting through her enemies”— Theron’s understanding of what Sith do in their limited free time is wildly inaccurate, but very amusing to Lana all the same. Still, his words mave have some truth to it, she concedes. Lana recalls the disgust Astral expressed at the thought of owning slaves; her first companion, Vette, was a slave briefly. Astral refused to treat her as such, and always gave Vette the option of leaving peacefully. She stayed, and became one of Astral’s closest and most trusted friends. Lana agrees with her in that slavery is a heinous institution in the Empire that only holds it back; she fondly considers the idea of them working together in the future to abolish the practice and better the Empire for it.

Lana pauses, remembering that after they end the Revanites’ plan— if they end his plans —they’ll return to their respective corners of the galaxy; they may very well never see each other again after this.

Another tight fist finds itself enclosed around Lana’s heart, squeezing mercilessly. She tries to ignore it, but the idea of never seeing Astral again pains her. She appreciates her diligence, but she’s also found herself growing fond of Astral’s other quirks; the occasional breaks in her normally calm demeanor as she launches into a didactic explanation of some book or ancient text she’s read recently, her strange interest for artifice, the burst of joy she exhibits when she’s engulfed in the natural beauties of the galaxy, her wry sense of humor and the knowing smile that tends to accompany it. But nothing compares to the incredible amount of restraint and compassion she shows not just for her allies, but for everyone she meets. Lana is often left in awe by her fellow Sith’s balance between empathy and intimidating dominance. She instantly gravitates towards Astral, relaxing in her presence quickly.

And that’s very dangerous.

Lana trusted blindly on Korriban. She was still undergoing her trials as an acolyte when she paid the price. Her vulnerabilities proved to be fatal. She was lucky it wasn’t fatal for her. She swore to never make the same mistake again. The kettle on the stove centered in front of Lana whistles loudly, demanding for her attention. Her hands shake as she pours herself a cup, so she tightens her grip; she doesn’t want to burn herself. She briefly ponders the burn scars surrounding Astral’s eyes. For all the woman’s openness, she’s remarkably elusive about them, and her past in general, apart from vocationally. Lana finishes pouring her drink, finally, and sets the kettle back down with a heavy sigh, as if a great weight has been released from her shoulders. They’ve barely made any progress in exposing the Revanites and she’s already exhausted.

Lana takes pride in her ability to control any situation. She’s frustrated and embarrassed that she can’t even control herself anymore. As Darth Arkous’ advisor, she was always mindful of any biases she may have held, and always tried to think pragmatically. Her rise to power can be attributed to her level head, and once again, people are relying on her. Yet, she can’t stop fretting over Astral when she’s away. It’s even worse when she’s near her— it’s like she’s lost her damn mind.

As if on cue, Lana senses the familiar pull through the force nearby. But something is off. Lana picks up her mug and quickly goes to check on the newly arrived, younger Sith. Lana is greeted by a weary sight.

Astral stands before her, clearly injured, but fully capable of ambulating on her own. This does little to assuage Lana; the numerous cuts and bruises she sports look painful,— Lana can feel the worst of it through their connection, and she winces —but Astral keeps a stoic expression, her face not belying her emotions, as a Sith should do. Astral does her best to stand proud and tall, but she hunches over a bit, despite herself. For a moment, Lana’s cool facade slips, and all her emotions play out on her face like a holorecording for Astral’s viewing: fear, concern, but also relief. She catches her error and schools her features again, but she knows Astral picked up on it all the same. Astral allows her stony expression to fall; she just looks tired, and her drawn out sigh only confirms her enervation. She surprises Lana by speaking first.

“I suppose you want an explanation,” Astral mutters as she moves to sink into a nearby chair. Lana frowns at the sound of bones cracking as Astral settles; she’s too young to be creaking like a worn out machine.

“Yes, I would like to know exactly why you are late to return, and why you sustained so many injuries,” Lana snaps. Her attitude catches both Astral and herself off guard. Lana is quick to apologize.

“Forgive me, Astral. That was uncalled for. Please, continue.”

Astral studies Lana for a moment in silence, a matching frown on her face. Then, she nods and says, “I had finished marking every container, when I almost ran into a patrol. I hid before they could see me. While I was hiding, I overheard them talking about emails from their employer. I decided to look into it myself, so I snuck into the actual base and sliced their computers. At this point, their jammers inside the base were stronger than my connection, so I wasn’t able to contact you or Theron anymore.” 

Lana intervenes, “Astral, what you did was incredibly dangerous—”

“I know,” Astral cuts off Lana’s lecture before she can truly get started. “It was also incredibly profitable. I copied all the emails in the inbox to my datapad, relevant to the Revanites or not, and made a run for it. I was almost off the entire campsite before I got unlucky. I ran into a patrol who used heavy grenades on me. I was able to take them and their reinforcements down, of course, but obviously not without some… minor scrapes.” The corner of her lip twitches upwards, hinting at her amusement. Lana doesn’t share her mirth.

“You could’ve been overrun, killed even. You should have just—”

Again, Astral interrupts, “I wasn’t going to be killed by some Nova Blade grunts, Lana.” Astral snorts at the thought. The apparent distress on Lana’s face makes Astral pause. Then she says, softer this time, “I’m sorry for worrying you so much, Lana. I understand how important this mission is, so in the future I will be more careful, and contact you about any changes of our plans beforehand.” Her amber eyes are nothing but sincere. It makes Lana feel warm all over, and she’s not sure if she relishes the feeling or despises it.

And Lana certainly knows at this point that it’s not just the mission that has become important to her. She’s not going to allow this development to impede her judgement, though.

Lana notices Astral straining to kolto scan her back where blood seems to pool, staining her padded, white shirt. She moves to help her, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Give me that, you fool,” Lana huffs. “And take off your shirt. I can’t reach your injuries with it on.”

Astral raises one eyebrow replying cheekily, “My, Lana… so forward.” She smirks to let Lana know she’s kidding, and Lana swats at her arm playfully in response. Despite the jestful manner of Astral’s statement, Lana can’t help but worry— she’s not trying to take advantage of her friend while she’s in a vulnerable state, is she? And this, she realizes, is why she must distance herself from Astral; she cannot afford to question her actions at every turn.

Lana refocuses her attention on the now shirtless Wrath.

All Sith must train endlessly to maintain a strong attunement with not just the Force, but their own bodies; naturally, they become very toned. The Wrath especially so, because of the unique intensity of her work. On the outside, she seems lithe, almost like a glass canon; she can hit hard, but breaks easily. Lana sees now that underneath her amor, The Wrath is an unshakeable fortress,— albeit a small one —all hard edges and defined muscles. She still retains some of the supple curves of the feminine body. Lana can’t help but marvel at the contrasting elements of the woman in front of her.

But it is the scars the Wrath so often keeps hidden that truly represents the Sith. The multiple shallow lacerations coating her tell of her more recent fight. The blood still trickling down her back, still fresh, tells of the brutality. As Lana gets to work on bandaging the still bleeding wounds, she wonders about the already scarred over ones. The number of markings adorning her body is staggering; some even overlap others.

Lana traces one on Astral’s shoulder, muttering, “So many…” underneath her breath.

“I’ve endured worse,” Astral says softly. Lana looks up into her deep umber eyes, surprised by the tenderness present in the voice. For a moment, she is lost in the tenderness of her eyes, as well.

“That must have been terrible…” Lana’s voice trails off. She doesn’t want to unearth bad memories.

“As the Wrath, I do what I must to preserve the Empire,” Astral says proudly. She looks down at her own clasped hands, hesitating for a moment. Then she speaks again, this time so quietly that Lana has to strain to hear her words. “And to protect those I care about.” Her palms turn up— an unspoken invitation. Lanas’ own hands shake with uncertainty.  
“And…” Lana pauses. “And who do you care about?”

Astral finally meets her eyes again, and Lana feels herself drowning; she hopes she can hear Astral’s response over the thundering beat of her heart. She feels something brushing against her fingers. Lana’s breath catches as she looks down to see Astral’s scarred hands near hers. Without hesitation, she envelops them, reveling in the warmth that follows. Astral continues to grip her hands softly despite Lana’s shaking.

“You,” Astral whispers.

She doesn’t know who moves towards who. Maybe it’s the Force itself that pulls them together. Lana isn’t sure, and she doesn’t quite care. All she cares about in that moment is the way Astral’s lips feel against hers, how her hands squeeze her own softly, reassuringly. The younger Sith’s not as experienced as Lana is, but Lana melts into her all the same. The softness Lana feels against Astral’s lips and warm hands is reflected tenfold in their Force bond; she feels herself being encompassed in desire, affection, and something else she can’t quite identify.

After what feels like eternity— yet too soon for Lana’s liking —Astral finally pulls away, faintly panting. Her eyes flicker from Lana’s (likely swollen) lips to her golden eyes. Astral looks surprised, but pleased as a smile grows on her face. She doesn't’ say anything, though. She lets Lana speak first. 

“I’ve never felt this way for anyone else before.” 

“Me neither,” the Wrath starts, “But I feel how connected we are, Lana. You can feel it too, can’t you?” Lana nods. She still feels comfort radiating through their connection. When you went into hiding, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I don’t know what this is, but I can feel you Lana. I don’t want to sever whatever this is. Lana—”

Usually Lana is patient, but she can’t keep herself from cutting Astral off with another kiss. Astral returns the kiss with just as much enthusiasm, already more invested in it than whatever else she had to say. Astral whimpers, and Lana is reminded of how long it’s been for her; arousal slices through their bond. Suddenly, Astral pulls away. Her hands remain in Lana’s, though.

“Wait,” she gasps.

“I’m sorry. Did I…” Lana begins, already calculating how she can salvage the situation in her head.

“No, Lana. That was wonderful,” Astral says hastily. She exhales, and then, much slower, “You’re wonderful.” She squeezes Lana’s hands, making sure she meets her eyes. Lana looks at her, relieved that she didn’t overstep any boundaries.

“I’m just not ready for anything else,” she continues tacitly. “Tonight isn’t the best night to try new things.” Her voice trails.

“Oh,” Lana says once. Then another “oh” as her eyes widen with realization. Astral grimaces, thoroughly embarrassed.

Lana cradles Astral’s cheek with one hand and says, “It’s okay, Astral. We don’t have to do anything until you’re ready. For now, maybe you should get some rest. I’ll take the first watch.”

“Lana, I can—”

Lana halts Astral’s protests with a finger to her lips. “You can rest and heal.” Lana’s tone leaves no room for any arguments.

“Alright,” Astral resigns, reluctantly letting go of Lana’s hands as she stands. Lana misses the contact almost instantly, but she hardens her resolve. “Goodnight, Astral,” she murmurs as she turns to guard the entrance.

“Lana,” she hears Astral say from behind. She turns once again to see what Astral needs. Lana is greeted by a brief, but no less exhilarating peck on the lips.

“Thank you,” Astral whispers inches from her face. Lana smiles, squeezing her hand a final time.

“I should be the one thanking you,” she confesses. Astral looks humbled for a moment. Then, she starts walking backward to her room, eventually breaking eye contact as she turns away. Lana watches her leave until she can’t see her anymore, and then a bit longer for good measure. Finally, she lets out a sigh as she moves to the entrance.

As she guards her post, she makes the decision to not wake Astral for her shift. Let her rest, she thinks to herself. The thought of Astral curled up whilst sleeping peacefully makes Lana smile.

Her hands don’t shake that night. For the first time in a long time, Lana feels certain about her future— their future, together.


End file.
